


We Can Make Your Ship Rock

by QueSeraAwesome



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Chicken Chasing, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Happy threesomes, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, but not all at the same time, will contain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueSeraAwesome/pseuds/QueSeraAwesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not a cop. Her real name isn't really "Sister." The last one is never really going to get the fucking sniper rifle. And no one really has any idea how any of this happened. </p><p>A collection of standalone one shots and drabbles written in the key of Suckington. Yeah. They went there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, guys," Tucker asks, walking into the living room, "Have you seen the…oh."

Wash is stretched out on the floor on his stomach, in the sunlight. Kaikaina is straddling his back, pen in hand and pen cap held between her teeth. It’s not the strangest thing he’s walked in on, but it might be in the top five.

"What are you doing?" Tucker asks.

"Countin’ freckles," Kaikaina says. She flips the pen cap from one side of her mouth to the other thoughtfully.

As he gets closer, he can see that that is, in fact, what they seem to be doing. They’ve done most of one shoulder blade, tiny inked splotches covering the little marks, trailing down to his spine. Kaikaina’s brow is furrowed with concentration, her lips moving as she counts.

"Eighteen..nineteen..twenty! Twenty, Wash!" she says.

"Yup," Wash says. His eyes are closed, chin pillowed on his arms, but he flicks out a wrist and makes a tally mark on the notebook in front of him. There are a lot of tally marks.

"Multiples of twenty," Wash says, eyes sliding open. "Easier to keep track of."

"Can’t lose count," Kai adds. "Would have to start over."

Wash sighs, but it’s not annoyed, it’s..peaceful. Lazy. He’s like this more often, these days, but it’s still nice. It makes Tucker feel warm, and not just from the sunlight pouring in the window.

"Can I help?" Tucker asks.

"Sure," Kai says, pausing in the act of coloring in a freckle along Wash’s spine. "Grab a pen."

There are probably worse ways to spend an afternoon. And Wash is clearly enjoying the attention.

Tucker’s got to ask, though. He’s curious.

"What are we gonna do about the ones on your—"

"We’re not coloring in those."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "Worked really well together in an online co-op" AU

"I KNEW YOU WOULD BE HOT!!" is the first thing Wash hears her say (screech) not through an internet connection, and okay, he’s used to the way Kai is by now, and maybe meeting in real life is suddenly looking like a bad idea.   
But when he looks up the screecher, who he presumes is IdHitThatHellYeah, has picked up a short black guy in a bear hug and is swinging him around while he yells excitedly back at her, and come to think of it, his voice sounds like BowChickaFuckYou’s.

"Kai? Tucker?" Wash asks, because there’s no way in hell he’s saying their gamertags in public, let alone the coffeeshop they agreed to meet at.

"Wash?" Tucker asks (Kai still hasn’t put him down). "Dude, don’t look so surprised, you’ve seen the shit we pull on the server. Get the fuck in the group hug, dumbass."


	3. Chapter 3

They’re not talking about it, Wash muses. They probably should. But they aren’t.

They’re not talking about how they practically live in Tucker’s apartment now. They don’t talk about how Wash’s granola and smoothie stuff is in the fridge, how Kaikaina’s bras and smelly shampoo are in the bathroom, how they both have the number for Junior’s school in their cell phones. They don’t talk about how most nights, at least two of them are together, and not just for the hours they’re spending pressed skin to skin.

And they do have sex. They have a lot of sex. Great sex. Yeah. That’s not the part that’s different.

What’s different is…hard to explain.

What’s different is how Tucker wakes up when Wash leaves the bed in the middle of the night to go quietly try to throw off his nightmare in the living room, how Kai will pad after him sleepily to where Wash is shaking and doing his best to be quiet. It’s how he picks up Kai from work and she always runs to the car, so glad she is to see him. It’s different, the way he struggles with how often he wants to talk about them, how many of his stories involve “Tucker said—” “Kaikaina was—” and how much of his life they’ve taken up (how much more space he wants to give them, how much space he holds back). It’s how they don’t let him spiral, don’t let him stagnate, how they stay with him.

He hasn’t had that before.

He’s not entirely sure he has it now, actually. Because they haven’t talked about any of this. About what any of it means. Might mean. Could mean. Fuck.

"These people I’m fucking regularly," isn’t a good enough descriptor for what’s happening between the three of them, not anymore. It isn’t enough.

They’ve got to talk about it. Have to. Wash has to tell them…

Wash has to…

"Ya know?" Kai says one day, when they’re laying on the couch together, her head resting in Wash’s lap, her feet in Tucker’s. "I think I need this."

"Need what?" Tucker asks. "A billionth rewatch of Buffy the Vampire Slayer?"

Oh, so that’s what they’re watching. Wash recognizes it now.

"No," Kai says, brow furrowing. "Like, this. You know. You guys.”

Wash stares down at her. She’s still got her eyes closed. It’s not like she needs to watch anymore, she’s seen it enough to quote it back to the screen (she does that, sometimes). She looks so content, so at ease, her hair falling down in easy waves across his knees. Like she didn’t just kinda sorta almost say what Wash’s been trying to bring up for the past month. Wash looks up at Tucker, a little helplessly, but Tucker’s staring at her too.

This is it, Wash thinks. This could be it, for the three of them. Tucker hasn’t exactly been quiet about his allergy to committ—

"Yeah," Tucker says, running a hand down her thigh to curl around her calf. "I think me, too."

Wash stares.

Kai snuggles a little closer into his lap, sighs. Like she’s said that all there is to be said. Wash remembers something she told him, back when they were first starting this. I make things easy. It’s kinda my super power.

He didn’t think the conversation could be this easy.

Wash sits there, gobsmacked, only half listening as Xander prattles on about something stupid.

"You know we have to talk about this, right?" he says, for lack of anything actually, you know, smart, to say.

"Shhh," Kai says, headbutting him in the knee. "I like this part. We can do the feel-y stuff in a minute."

Wash turns shocky eyes towards Tucker again, searching for a lifeline. Tucker just shrugs, a thumb rubbing circles on Kai’s calf. He leans over from where he’s got an arm slung over the back of the couch, runs the backs of his fingers up from Wash’s shoulder up until his fingers slide through his hair, a quick caress. 

The smile Tucker gives him is fond. Makes the ache of surprise, of affection hurt a little less, a little more, in a different way.

"Jesus, Wash," he says. "Can’t you wait just a few more minutes?"


	4. Chapter 4

All they were looking for was a way off this planet. Or food, or a better radio, which is why they even opened this box marked “CLASSIFIED” in the broke-ass crashed ship, and turned on the doohicky inside it. Which is when it started projecting the holographic images on the wall.

The first few scenes were random. Ships. A quick shot of a circle of aliens. A snowy valley.

When it settles again it’s showing a dark bedroom, fading sunset light streaming through the curtained window.

The man on the bed is lying on his back, bare to the waist, eyes closed. Maybe sleeping. His hair’s a mess. Scratch that, in general he just looks rumpled. Jeans unbuttoned and low on his hips, shirt unbuttoned and wrinkled. He’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a lazy smile on his lips.

Wash aches a bit, looking at him. The man on the bed has a bit more gray, a few less worrylines but he knows that face, it’s still—

"Holy, shit, he looks like you, Wash," Tucker says. "Does this thing see the past?"

"I think it is me,” Wash says, “Look at the certificate on the wall. Honorable Discharge for— for me.”

"I didn’t know you got discharged," Tucker says. "Why the fuck are you still here?"

"I didn’t," Wash says. "Maybe it’s some kind of look at some alternate universe or something."

"Nerd."

"Well, I never got discharged," Wash says. "And the date’s the same, look at the calendar—"

"Whatever, keep looking at boring shit, man," Tucker retorts. "Look! You got company!"

And sure enough, a woman enters from a door on the right, and Wash catches a glance of sink, toilet before she closes the door again. She’s pulling a short skirt down, smoothing it down over her thighs. Her hair’s a wreck, a dark tangle of waves and— okay, it’s sex hair, alright? It’s sex hair. She looks a little Hawaiian, but he can’t really tell, especially from this far away. She shoots a warm look at the Wash on the bed, says something, probably teasing by the curve of her lips. The device doesn’t appear to have audio.

The woman plops herself down on the bed (and there really is no other word for it, the other Wash bounces a bit with the impact) and settles herself down next to the other Wash. She curls against the other him’s chest, tucks herself against him as close as possible. Possessively. The other Wash laughs quietly, reaches down to tip her chin up.

It’s lazy, the way they kiss, the unhurried slide of their lips against each other. No urgency. Easy. Wash blinks. He knows what he kisses like while he’s still in post-orgasm glow and this—

"Holy shit, Wash," Tucker laughs. "You got laid.”

"Shut up," Wash snaps.

"Looks like you couldn’t even wait to get naked proper you horny bastard—"

"Shut up, Tucker.”

"She’s pretty hot, dude. Those legs, and her hips. Damn. She looks kind of familiar.”

"I’m sure," Wash says, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, hey, I know her," Tucker says. "That’s Sister."

"You have a sister?"

"Ugh! Noo, man, just no," Tucker says. "She’s Grif’s sister. Kaikaina Grif. Man, if she was my sister that’d be just wrong. I didn’t treat her like a sister, if you know what I’m saying.”

"Sure, Tucker," Wash says, turning back to the screen.

"I mean we fucked."

"I got that," Wash deadpans.

"Yeah, she used to be on Blue Team, back in Blood Gulch," Tucker continues. "Wore yellow. Kai was always kinda dumb, but whatever. She could flip over a tank. Biceps like whoah. And she used them. Wonder what ever happened to her.”

Wash frowns, a memory poking at him insistently, a loud voice. Yellow. Not a cop.

"I think I…met her, Once," Wash says. "At your bases, when I was looking for the Blues."

"Did you meet her or did you meet—”

"We had one conversation," Wash says. "She thought I was a cop. Wouldn’t really be convinced otherwise."

"Yeah, that sounds like Kai." Tucker says, voice fond. The other him and the woman— Kaikaina, he said her name was Kaikaina— are still kissing, she’s thrown one bronze leg around his hip and is pulling him closer. "And now you’re fuckin’."

“They’re fucking,” Wash corrects. “He’s not me, Tucker,”

'Yeah, whatever, man.”

Wash tries not to stare, but it’s hard not to. And I mean, Tucker’s doing it.

They’ve shifted, turned their bodies in towards each other in search of a better angle to kiss without having to move from being pressed together. Their lips slide apart for a moment and they just touch foreheads, looking into each other eyes and the affection is unmistakable, this isn’t a hook up, isn’t a one time thing. The other Wash tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and she nuzzles into his palm.

Wash is suddenly painfully aware of how empty his hands are at his sides.

"Dude," Tucker says. "You look happy. I guess Kai managed to work the stick out of your—”

The door opens and a figure enters. It’s hard to see in the gloom of the room away from the light of the bedside lamp, but that doesn’t last long, because the figure enters the circle of light, sure steps taking him toward the bed and—

It’s Tucker. This version has long dreads tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, wearing a tight-fitting aqua t-shirt. Some things don’t change, Wash muses.

He says something to the Wash and Kaikaina on the bed, and they stop kissing to look over at him. They don’t look perturbed at all that he’s there. Kaikaina says something and Wash’s lips quirk up in a smile. Tucker grins and replies, waggling his eyebrows outrageously. Wash wishes he knew what they were saying. They’re clearly teasing each other. .

"Hey, that’s me," Tucker says. "I—"

But that’s when the Other Tucker grins filthy, leans down into Other Wash’s space. He murmurs something, eyes a challenge, and when he moves forward the Other Wash meets him halfway. This kiss is less easy than the former, a hint of aggressiveness, a hint of challenge in the way they kiss each other. When they break away the other Tucker grins, pleased with how Other Wash’s breath has picked up, his chest rising and falling with the force. The look Other Wash gives him is full of heat and Tucker just laughs and leans over him to Kaikaina’s waiting mouth.

"Oh," Tucker says. Wash can’t look over at him. "Oh.”

While the other Tucker is distracted by Kaikaina’s mouth, the other Wash grins. His fingers tighten on Tucker’s waist, gripping and levering the other man off his feet and guiding him between him and Kaikaina on the bed. Kaikaina laughs and hurriedly scootches to make room, diving back in to plant sloppy kisses against Tucker’s neck once he’s landed on his back. Other Wash leans down, one hand cupping Tucker’s jaw and kisses him insistently, with none of the laziness of before, but the same ease, the same familiarity. Kaikaina says something and Wash pulls back, laughing as Tucker tries to follow his mouth, let’s Kaikaina kiss him for a while, smiling as he watches.

That is an awfully big bed, Wash muses. Big enough for three people to sleep in.

Kaikaina’s hand slides up Other Tucker’s shirt, and whatever she does, he jerks between them, arching into her mouth. The Other Wash laughs, keeps sucking kisses onto Tucker’s neck, putting a little teeth into it to make him squirm.

The other Wash reaches for the button of Other Tucker’s jeans and the screen cuts off.

They don’t say anything. The crashed ship is quiet around them, but Wash is suddenly hyper aware of the space between them and the ceiling, the amount of empty space yawning between them.

"I—" he stops. "I’m going to go look for…for food. Because we’ll die. Without it."

"Yeah," Tucker says, staring at the spot on the wall the images were just a second ago. "Yeah. Do that."

A week later a Pelican crash lands next to their base. When a yellow armored soldier tumbles out, demanding to know where her brother is, and also if they have any food and if there are any hotties around, Tucker and Wash carefully don’t look at each other. At all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers for parental abandonment, grief, depression-like behavior, a very very sad Kaikaina

It’s official. Mama Grif is no where to be found.

No more leads. No more ideas. No more Jane Does to investigate, no more circuses to visit, no more graveyard records to scan for the right name.

She’s just gone.

And Kaikaina hasn’t woken up yet.

She and Grif tumbled off the plane at nine o’clock. She tumbled off the plane and into Wash’s arms, curled her head against his chest, hair falling over her face. Her fingers had tightened in Tucker’s shirt the second he was in range, pulled him in.

Grif got to them ten seconds later, a worried Simmons on his heels.

"It didn’t go well," Wash says.

Grif shakes his head. No. It didn’t.

Grif had explained as they made their way out to the parking lot together, Kaikaina tucked under Wash’s arm, Tucker’s arm tucked around her waist.

His eyes were hard on Tucker’s, Kai quiet in the passenger seat, Wash at the wheel, Tucker hesitating with the door open. _Look out for my sister, man,_ Grif didn’t have to say. His eyes said it for him. _That’s my fucking baby sister and I can’t fix this._

The drive home was quiet, the radio muted in the background. She was first in the door of their apartment, headed straight for the bedroom.

"I need a nap," she said, the first thing she’d said since getting off the plane.

It’s nine thirty.

The second the bedroom door closed, Wash reached for him. Fingers tight, almost frantic in his shirt, and Tucker goes. They fold into each other, Wash’s arms clutching at his sides, saying _I can’t fix this._

They stood like that, in the hallway, in the dark, just breathing.

They breathed a very long time.

*

That night was tense in their bed, Kai curled in the center, both of them hesitant to touch her, brackets unsure of their welcome. The sheets felt cold, despite the three bodies, despite the blankets on the bed. Wash didn’t sleep for hours, thought guiltily of going to sleep on the couch. But then he thought of Kaikaina waking without him there, and stayed.

Tucker woke up at eight, waited, watching her face for an hour. She didn’t stir. Eventually he got up. Showered. Got a batch of banana-chocolate chip pancakes started. Was leaning against the counter, staring at a stack of pancakes way too big too eat by himself when Wash finally padded in.

"Didn’t sleep well?" he asks. Wash doesn’t sleep in until eleven unless it’s a Saturday. Wash shakes his head. Eyes the pancakes.

"They’ll still be good when she wakes up," he says. "We can heat them up in the microwave."

They finish their shares of the pancakes together, ankles pressed together under the table. They finish the pancakes. Wash sighs, rubs his hands over his face. They don’t look at the clock.

It’s ten a.m. She’s been sleeping almost thirteen hours.

"We need groceries," he finally says. "Unless we want hot pockets and canned soup for lunch and dinner."

Tucker nods.

"She’ll be hungry when she wakes up."

With a kiss goodbye, Wash goes. Tucker pretends he doesn’t see his white-knuckle grip on his keys, pretends there aren’t furrows in his forehead. Pretends there aren’t furrows in his own.

Tucker cleans up the breakfast dishes, and then does them because he has no idea what else he’s supposed to do. Tucker decides to put Buffy on because Kai likes that shit, but he can’t decide which would be worse, to play an episode before Buffy’s Mom dies or after, and he can’t remember which season she died during and he really really can’t play that season right now.

He’s reading the back of the box sets when he realizes the shower’s running. He gets up, crosses to the closed shower door. Hesitates, hand on the handle. If this were any other day, especially any other day after Kai’s been home for a trip, he’s think nothing of joining in her shower.

"I made you some pancakes," he calls through the door.

She doesn’t answer. Or maybe he doesn’t hear it over the sound of the spray.

"They’re in the fridge. Banana chocolate chi—"

“ _Okay,_ Tucker.”

He tries not to be offended by that. Pancakes are the only thing he’s good at cooking. Easy, hella customizable, and guaranteed that a five-year old will definitely eat. He goes back to reading the back of the Buffy discs.

When the shower shuts off he curses, shoves a disc into the player and throws himself on the couch, trying to look nonchalant.

"You don’t like Buffy," she says from behind the couch, a few minutes later.

"What’s the matter with Buffy?" Tucker asks. "I watch it with you all the time."

"Not by yourself." she says.

He turns to look at her. She looks tired, deep circles under her eyes, hair still wet from the shower, hanging limply across her shoulders. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest. Not crossed-under-to-push-up-her-boobs-crossed, but crossed-over-protective-crossed. And suddenly, he has no idea what to say. What he wants to say is “I’m sorry your Mom was such a bitch.” “I hate seeing you like this.” “I’m fucking sorry, Kai.” “I can’t fix this.” But he's pretty sure he can't say any of that. 

The silence stretches on. She doesn’t look him in the eye.

Wash stumbles in the door, armfuls of bags in his arms.

"Oh, hey," Wash says, stilling awkwardly when he sees them.

Tucker can see two different kinds of ice cream, a bag of cookies, a package of those little pills that turn into foam dinosaurs when you put them in water, a bottle of wine, a Ring-Pop, those ridiculous Reeses Cups shaped like pumpkins (she only eats the ones with shapes), and a whole pineapple in the bags.

Subtle, Wash, he thinks.

"What do you want for dinner?" Wash asks, breaking the silence. "I can make whatever you want, really, I—"

"Could you just stop trying to cheer me up!" Kai yells suddenly. "Just stop it!"

Tucker and Wash freeze.

"I don’t want to be cheered up," Kai says. "I just…I just want to be sad.”

Her head droops, loose on her neck, hair swinging over her face.

"I just want to be sad."

The first hiccup is quiet, but they’re already moving, Wash dropping the groceries on the island, Tucker’s arms extended when the first sob escapes her.

The crying just kind of falls out her and she falls into them as they reach her, arms winding around her. Together they get her to the couch, all three of them curling together, Kaikaina bracketed between them (they’re not unsure anymore). Wash presses a kiss to her hair. Tucker lets her mash her face against his shirt.

And Kaikaina cries. She cries and cries, great shakes that seem to rock up from her core, like they’ve been a long time coming. They just hold her tighter.

"Okay," Wash says, and his voice is aching for her. "Okay. You just be sad. We’ll be here."

"We’ll be here," Tucker echoes. She reaches out and twines their fingers together, gripping so hard it hurts. Tucker squeezes back just as hard.. "We’re not going fucking anywhere."


	6. Chapter 6

Kaikaina’s up to something. Tucker’s sure of it.

Like, he’s had a long time to get to know her, and to develop a radar for when his girl’s up to something. It helps that she’s not so great with the whole subtlety thing, but. Like. She’s up to something. Hiding something. He’s sure of it.

And he’s going to figure out what it is.

*

"You know, when you said you had something you wanted to show me in the shed, this is pretty much the last thing I was expecting," Wash says, leaning back against the shed door.

Kaikaina makes a face up at him, keeps doling out bits of bread crust and wilted spinach for the little black hen pecking around her knees where she’s seated on the ground.

A hen. As in a chicken. Kaikaina brought him back here to show him a chicken that she’s currently hiding in the shed.

"I found her,” Kaikaina says, reaching out a hand to pet the glossy black feathers. “She was lost and alone and crying and I found her. I had to take her in.”

“Can chickens cry?” Wash asks, watching the hen scratch at the ground.

“Clucking sadly,” Kai allows. “Practically peeping.”

“Peeping.”

“You know? The little noises chicks make?”

“I do not actually have that much experience with chickens, believe it or not,” Wash says, trying not to laugh.

“Really?” Kai asks. “That’s weird.”

Wash shrugs. But the question’s burning on the tip of his tongue.

“Kai?”

“Yeah, Wash?” she asks, looking up at him.

“Where did you get experience with chickens?”

"I used to have a pet chicken when I was little," Kaikaina says, looking fondly at the bird. "Her name was Princess Cock."

"…How old were you?" Wash asks.

Kaikaina shrugs.

"Like, eight. I raised her from a baby, so she liked me a lot. She used to chase Dexter, though, he hated her.”

“Oh,” Wash says. He grew up in the city. The only chickens he ever met were usually, well, post-chickens. They didn’t so much have personalities. Just, well. Flavors. Rotiserie. Lemon-pepper. Fried.

“I’m going to call you the Duchess of Cock,” Kai tells the bird. Wash snorts.

“You know, if you’re going to name her, we really ought to tell Tuck—“

“Noooo, Wash, you can’t tell Tucker,” Kai says, scrambling to her feet, making the chicken cluck angrily and flap its wings. “He’ll make me get rid of her!”

"What makes you think he’ll get rid of it?" Wash asks, folding his arms over his chest.

"Because Tucker’s afraid of birds,” Kaikaina says. Wash nods to himself. This is true. Tucker does seem to hold resentment toward any birds larger than your average sparrow. “You weren’t there that time we went to the zoo, where they had all the peacocks running around? This fugly motherfucker came right at us, and Tucker screamed. I had to drag him off the statue of the giraffe. After I fought it off, of course. Stupid peacocks. But, like, we had to leave. And he won’t go back. Fucking peacocks.”

“You don’t like peacocks?” Wash asks. This entire conversation is ridiculous. Absurd. And yet he can’t help digging himself in further.

“Helllls no, peacocks are bitches,” Kai says, snorting derisively. It may be one of the cutest things Wash has seen her do. “There was this one peacock who lived in my neighborhood. We named him Felix. Damned nuisance. He always used shriek all the time and he hung out hear our house because there was a pond nearby and he liked to look at his reflection. Peacocks suck.”

“Not like chickens.”

“No, chickens are great,” Kai says. She scatters a few sunflower seeds for Duchess and giggles when the hen goes nuts over them.

Wash smiles, watching her. He’s not really sure how he feels about keeping a chicken in their shed, but…but he could be convinced. For that smile.

“I’m not going to keep her,” Kai says sadly. “I just gotta find a good home for her. But until then, Tucker can’t know.”

Wash hesitates. Normally, he’d be 100% against two of them lying and hiding something from the third, but…

But it’s about a chicken. In their shed.

“Okay,” he says. “But we should really work on finding her a home.”

“Yes!” Kai cheers, scrambling to her feet and throwing her arms around him. “Thank you, Wash! Thank you, thank you, thank you—“

She peppers his face with kisses until he starts laughing, has to fight her off. The chicken— The Duchess of Cock— clucks, alarmed at the commotion, runs in circles around the shed.

*

They keep her well-hidden the next few days, Kai sneaking out with chicken-appropriate food and table scraps every chance she gets. But the third day, Wash has only barely gotten home when Kaikaina comes barreling through the house towards him.

"Wash, you gotta help me!" she begs, grabbing him by the hands and dragging him towards the backyard.

"What’s happening?" Wash demands, feeling his old military instincts flaring. "What’s wrong?"

"I can’t catch Duchess Cock," Kaikaina pants, "And Tucker’s going to be home any minute! Wash, please, he can’t see her, this is an emergency!”

Wash stops in his tracks, staring at her.

"You need me," he says, "to help you catch a chicken."

"Please?"

Kaikaina doesn’t ever really ask them for much. And even now, fingers tight on his, eyes huge and desperate, he can tell there’s a part of her that thinks she’s going to have to bargain for his help, that thinks he won’t help. Even after all this time. He adjusts his grip on her hands, squeezes back.

“All right,” he says. “How do you catch a chicken?”

The next ten minutes are frankly ridiculous. The Duchess of Cock is is surprisingly fast and agile for such a stupid-looking bird. And every time one of them gets close she flaps her wings in their face and it’s back to square one. Wash is positive he’s got a feather stuck in the back of his throat at this point.

“Why did you let her out in the first place?” Wash asks, catching his breath while Kaikaina tries to non-threateningly scoot closer to the suspicious hen.

“It’s better for her to get to run around, forage and shit,” Kai whispers. “Rather than stay cooped up in the shed all the time. I thought it’d be okay, but then I remembered Tucker come home early on Thursdays!”

The Duchess of Cock clucks derisively, runs out of Kai’s reach. Kai swears.

“I hate you,” Wash tells the bird.

Wash swears the chicken gives him the stink eye, bobs its head at Kaikaina.

“Don’t look at me,” Kaikaina says to the bird. “You’re kinda being a bitch right now.”

The Duchess of Cock squawks at them both, runs under the thorn bushes along the side of the yard.

Wash sighs.

It’s a combination of thrown sunflower seeds into the shed, and Wash herding her from behind that finally gets the shed door closed behind her birdbutt.

Kaikaina closes the shed door with a snap, setting off a wave of furious clucking from inside the shed.

“Shut up, Duchess,” Kaikaina says, leaning against the shed door.

The sound of a car door slamming makes them both look up. Exchange a glance.

“Quick,” Wash hisses, “Inside—“

But it’s too late. The back door slides open.

“Hey,” Tucker says, stepping out onto the back porch. “Whatcha guys doing?”

Wash exchanges a glance with Kaikaina. She bites her lip. Pauses for a moment too long, it seems.

Tucker’s eyes slide from Kaikaina to Wash. To Kaikaina. To the shed. He takes a step forward.

“Whyyyy don’t we go inside?” Wash says. “It’s your night to cook, Tucker,”

“Sure, whatever,” Tucker says, advancing, “We’ll do pizza.”

“We had pizza two days ago,” Kai protests, but she keeps shooting nervous glances between Tucker and the shed and she really isn’t fooling anybody.

“Fine, I’ll cook something different,” Tucker says, grinning evilly. “Just as soon as I get something out of the shed.”

“You can’t do that,” Wash interrupts. “Poison ivy. Everywhere.”

“Dude, there’s nothing green even over there,” Tucker retorts. He’s really grinning now.

“I’ll get it for you.”

“Kai, why can’t I go in the shed?” Tucker demands, but he’s smiling like an idiot, like he’s figured something out. Wash drops his head into his hands, massages his temples. Dear god, if the stupid chicken gets out again—

"It’s a surprise," Kaikaina says, throwing herself over the shed door. "For your birthday."

"What kinda surprise do you have to prepare in a shed?" Tucker asks, trying to get past her.

"The kind that we can’t hide in the house!”

"Aw, hell yes, now I gotta get a peak—"

Kai throws herself against him, her full weight plastered against him, heels dug in.

“Tucker,” she begs, genuine distress starting to creep into her voice. “You caaaan’t. You’ll ruin the surprise!”

Tucker stops. Meets Wash’s eyes over Kai’s shoulder. Wash just raises his eyebrows at him.

(Guilt trip. Maybe a guilt trip will work. He’s not chasing that chicken again for another twenty minutes. Those feet-claw things looked sharp, and now she’s pissed at him. A chicken is pissed at him and that is only the second biggest problem in his life right now, the first beiNG IF Tucker manages to actually get in that shed.)

"…Okay," Tucker says, wrapping his arms around Kai and spinning her around. She squeals in surprise and delight, clinging to him. "I’ll keep out of the shed. But this better be one bitchin’ surprise.”

“The bitchingest,” Kai agrees when he sets her down. She swats his ass as he turns to go inside. “Now, go get your cook on, bitch.”

"I’m going, I’m going."

The back door slides shut. The fucker’ll be totally be watching them from the kitchen window is a minute, though.

"You know, you can’t hide her forever," Wash says.

"I know," Kai responds glumly. "I already got a farm that’ll take her. Tomorrow. Can you distract him tomorrow afternoon while I get her to the car?”

Wash sighs.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Thanks.”

They stand there for a moment, and sure enough, Tucker’s face appears in the kitchen window. Just his eyes and forehead, like he’s trying to be sneaky. Wash sighs again.

“You realize now we actually have to think of a surprise for his birthday,” Wash says. “Something shed-worthy.”

Kai shrugs.

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for a prompt from texelations on tumblr "They were like tendrils of hope breaking through the soil of distrust."
> 
> Triggers for abandonment, panic attacks/ptsd, and alcohol mention. Happy ending.

Kaikaina wakes up and the bed is empty and cold. When she went to sleep, she was in the middle. It was _her turn_. 

She wakes up alone, and cold. 

“Tucker?” 

It’s like the darkness eats the sound as soon as if leaves her mouth. She sits up, brushes her bangs out of her face. It’s dark. She’s alone. 

“Wash?”

There’s no answer.

Kaikaina folds her legs in front of her, setting her head on her blanket-covered knees. She wraps her arms around herself. She isn’t cold. 

The only movement in the room is the darker shadows playing across the wall, mirrored by the trees outside the window. There isn’t anyone moving in the whole base. She would know. She could tell. 

She’s alone.

It’s cool. It’s okay. It’s not like it’s the first time she’s woken up alone. It’s not the first time. It’s cool. 

She wraps her arms tighter around herself and shivers. ~~She thought this time might be different.~~

Her bare feet sting from the chill on the floor. Military bases don’t have carpet. She doesn’t really remember where she left her armor. She hasn’t been wearing it inside, she’d been trying to get— to get him to loosen up. She’d been trying to prove with her body that everything could be okay. 

She remembers Tucker had some beer stashed behind the fridge. Beer time. It feels like beer time.They don’t have anything stronger. She creeps through the quiet (abandoned) base, to the kitchen. Not much of a kitchen. She’s seen worse. Everything’s quiet. Maybe she can amp the speakers in her helmet in the morning. Make this place _dance_. Make it not so quiet while she figures out what to do next. Where to go next.

She pads into the kitchen and a flicker of movement makes her freeze, all senses alert. She turns her head.

They’d dragged an old couch they found into the kitchen. They didn’t have many rooms, nothing like a living room anyway. 

He’s folded on the couch, hunched over, face buried in his hands, all of him taut lines, whole body a clench. His hair’s been twisted into spikes from his hands. He isn’t breathing right and for a moment she wonders thinks, _He’s hurt. He’s dying._

Tucker crouches in front of him, on the floor, murmuring words she can’t hear.  He’s steady, elbows balanced on his knees, hands folded in front of him, a careful distance from Wash’s knees. So careful. 

She looks at Tucker and knows he’s seen this before.

When she freezes he turns his head, looks over his shoulder at her. His lips don’t stop moving. 

She stares at him, wide eyed. Glances between him and Wash. Not sure she wants to pretend she doesn’t see the way Tucker’s shoulders are knitting upwards, protectively. Isn’t sure she wants to notice the warring emotions in his eyes, threat, fear, hope, longing, resignation. His eyes say, _Go ahead._

She looks at Wash. He almost seems to flicker in front of her, from the tremors, from the way he’s breathing. He still sounds like he’s dying, like he’s going under. Kai knows what people sound like when they’re going under.

“Wash,” Tucker says, voice deliberately calm, breaking the quiet. “Kai’s here.”

A low noise of distress, cut off before it can grow. He rocks once, an uneasy shift, scrubs his hands over his eyes, curling away from Tucker, curling away from her.

“Fuck,” Wash hisses. “I’m fine. I’m _fine_. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. Go back to sleep.”

His chest heaves and so does Kai’s, one big inhale, slow to let it out. 

“I got cold,” she says. “I just came out for a drink.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be back in a minute. Tucker, go with her.”

The set of Tucker’s jaw declares he’ll do no such thing. 

So instead she crosses the floor, footfalls soft but audible against the cement. She crouches down next to Tucker, mirroring his pose.

He flinches away when her skin touches his, but he doesn’t stop her when she gently places her hand over his. He only resists a bit when she clasps it with her own, pulls it away from his face. His hand tightens around hers like a vice, an involuntary clench before he releases, tries to pull away. She hold on.

“I’m pretty strong,” she says. “You’re not going to, like, break me or nuthin.”

She steadies herself with a hand on Tucker’s knee. The look he sends her is calculating, unsure, hopeful. 

Wash hasn’t opened his eyes yet. They look sore, red from pressure and rubbing and interrupted sleep. She wants to reach out and smooth out his knotted forehead but she doesn’t think he can let her yet. 

“Your hand’s cold,” he says.

“You’re warm,” she responds. Tucker’s knee shifts under her hand and she looks at him. She squeezes back.

She kisses the back of Wash’s hand and he chuckles unsteadily.

Tucker starts murmuring again; she can hear what he’s saying, this close.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chickens continue

They are the tiniest peepers Kaikaina has ever seen, and for a moment the world fades to a soft pink glow.

“ _Babies,”_ she whispers. 

She reaches into the box and a tiny black ball of fluff tumbles into her palm. It looks rather confused about this. 

“Peep,” it cheeps.

“Peep,” Kaikaina whispers back.

*

The box is bundled into the car despite the fact that it’s, like, totally gross. It’s been sitting on the wet pavement. She puts it in the backseat with the seatbelt fastened over it (because that’s safe). She drives fifteen miles an hour to the nearest pet supply store. She remembers where it is, that’s where they got all the new kitten’s ridiculous amount of toys. 

Her phone beeps a text alert. She checks it. It’s Wash.

_Hey!  what you want for dinner?_

**whatever** she texts back.

She keeps pushing her cart through the aisles and her phone beeps again.

_hey sexy what’s up_

Tucker.

**_picking up chicks_ **

_cool hangin out with South again?_

She doesn’t reply. She’s too busy searching for perfect food for growing babies. Her phone beeps again.

_chicken?_

**yes _,_** she texts back.

Her brain pokes at her insistently.

_**WAIT NO ANYTHING BUT THAT.** _

_***** _

It isn’t until she gets in the door with a bag of chicken feed under one arm and the box in her hands when it occurs to her that she probably should have mentioned this to someone.

“Uh oh,” she says.

Tucker was really understanding about the whole Princess Cock thing once he found out. But this is not one hen, this is a box of chicks. And they just got a new kitten.

Said kitten crawls out from under the couch.

“Mow?” she says.

“Uh oh,” Kai says.

*

“Has anyone seen Skylar?” Wash asks when they’re camped out in front of the tv eating spaghetti later. Kaikaina’s been kind twitchy all evening, running off the the bathroom and complaining of having “the poops.”

“Nah, haven’t seen her all night,” Tucker says, slurping at a noodle.

And then Kai blanches, puts down her plate with a bang.

“Poops!” she yells, running down the hall.

Kaikaina is nothing if not transparent. Tucker and Wash exchange a glance.

“I’ll look for your meow-factory,” Tucker says. “You figure out what’s up.”

Wash pads down the hallway, looking for Kai. Except she isn’t in the bathroom. The door’s wide open and there’s no Kaikaina there. He keeps looking.

The room to the spare bedroom is cracked and he peers inside just in time to see her shoulders heave with relief over something in the closet.

“Can’t find her,” Tucker says, coming up behind her. “She’s definitely not in the living room—”

Kaikaina  looks up at them guiltily. She pulls a large, blanket-lined box out of the closet, offers it to them.

“I don’t want to keep them,” Kai says. “They were just on the street. I couldn’t leave them there.”

Wash and Tucker peer in the box. There collapsed in a heap, is Skylar. She’s covered on all sides by fluffy down, snuggled up in a pile of chicks. 

Wash exchanges a glance with Tucker. In the box, one tiny black fuzz ball detaches itself from the rest, cheeping softly. It perches itself down on Skylar’s back, snuggles fuzz to fuzz and settles back down to sleep.

“Maybe just one,” Tucker says.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to call this pre-suckington

"Hey, Cop-face!”

Wash sighs, but turns around. It isn’t like he was doing anything other than Watching Caboose and Tucker bicker a few meters away. They’ve got to get away from this snow. It’s getting on his nerves.

”You’re a Blue now, right?” the yellow soldier asks. 

Wash winces, mostly to avoid the relief the idea still brings up.

”I guess so,” he says. “You’re…Sister, right?”

”Hey, no way,” she replies. “You’re new. You’re trainable! My name’s Kaikaina.”

”Okay,” he says. “Kaikaina.”

“Okay!” she says. “You’re a Blue now! That means you gotta have the Blue Team Orientating thingie.”

“The what?” Wash asks.

“Don’t worry,” she reassures him. “I’m trained for this.”

“For what?” Wash asks with a strange sense of foreboding. 

“The first rule of Blue Team isssss,” Kaikaina crows, “don’t kill Church.”

Wash blinks at her. Thinks of the memory unit in the snow, of a pair of glasses.

“Um,” he says.

“But don’t worry about it,” Kaikaina says suddenly. “We break that one all the time. Second rule! The base.”

She looks around them. The snow keeps coming down.

“We’ll get there when we get one,” she says. “Third rule!”

Wash idly wonders if any of these are actual rules, and if he’s going to manage to not break any of them.

“The only rule for rookies on Blue Team,” Kaikaina continues. “Is Don’t Kill the Leader.”

“I’m not a rookie,” Wash protests.

She stares at him. Wash sighs.

“Who’s the leader?” 

Kaikaina chews her lip in thought. Wash lets his gaze wander over to Caboose and Tucker. 

“We should really get moving,” he says. “We shouldn’t linger here.“

“Huh,” Kaikaina says. “Well, I guess you are. The leader, I mean. No one else’s doing it. _Heh._ Doin’ it.”

“I’m the leader,” Wash says. She nods enthusiastically. “I’m the rookie and I’m the leader.”

“And the first rule is rookies Don’t Kill the Leader,” Kaikaina says, wagging a finger under his visor. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Wash says. 

“Oh, and the last rule,” Kaikaina says. “It’s the most important. _Be cool.”_

Wash waits. She doesn’t say anything more, waiting for his reaction.

“Is that it?” he asks “‘Be cool’?”

“Yup,” Kaikaina says, rocking back on her heels. “Oh, and don’t call Tucker’s kid a dog. He gets really pissy about that and then he won’t sleep with you until you say sorry.”

“I’ll try to avoid it,” Wash deadpans.

“The calling the kid a dog, or the sleeping with Tucker?” Kaikaina asks. “Because if you’re gonna do the second I got some tips—”

“Let’s get moving,” Wash interrupts, starting toward the other half of their team.

“Oh, wait!” Kaikaina says, grabbing onto his wrist. “I forgot! I’m supposed to ask you about your training.”

“My training.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “We can skip it. I already know you’re trained as a cop.“

“I’m not a cop,” Wash says. Thinks about it. “Not anymore.”

“Nope, she says, cheerily. “You’re a Blue now.”

Her grip slides down until she’s clasping her hand in his. 

“Don’t worry,” she says. “It’s weird at first, but, like, it’s a _good_ weird, you know?”

Wash stares at her. And suddenly, he really hopes he gets to find out.

“C’mon!” she yells, and starts running toward Tucker and Wash. 

Wash stumbles along after her, thinks, _guess I’m a Blue now._

He’ll be slightly less happy about that after Kaikaina insists on the Official Welcome to Blue Team Cheerleading Pyramid.


	10. Chapter 10

Wash is over yelling at the Reds again when Kaikaina sits bolt upright and nearly clocks Tucker in the jaw.

“ _Dating,”_ she hisses.

“Oh my god, what the fuck,” Tucker complains, righting himself. “You nearly pushed me off the base, Kai—”

“Tucker, _dating_ ,” Kai interrupts, turning to him.

“What about it?” Tucker says. He keeps rubbing his face like she actually did hit him, and keeps it up until she kisses it better. 

“Remember when we weren’t fucking yet and we had that talk?” Kai says, inching closer. “Wash said he wanted to date us.”

“Yeah?” Tucker says. He doesn’t see the problem. “We said yes. And it’s awesome. I don’t get it.” 

“What if when he said he wanted to date us, he didn’t just mean sex?” Kaikaina says. “What if he didn’t just mean cuddles and kisses and that thing where he totally likes being the little spoon and making nightmare-nights better and all the other stuff?”

Kai looks at him with the biggest, brownest, most concerned eyes he’s ever seen her with. Not even that one time when she really wanted to try the thing and Wash and Tucker had to say no because where were they going to find a ski-lift, and it wasn’t like they could build one.

“What if Wash wants _dates,_ “ Kaikaina says. 

Tucker frowns. 

Thinks about it.

“Oh, shit.”

*

It’s around sunset when Wash realizes he hasn’t seen Tucker or Kai for hours. It’s also around sunset when Caboose looks up in the middle of telling him a story and says “Oh, good, distracting time is over now.”

“What?” Wash says.

“You have to go up to the roof now,” Caboose says, pushing Wash to his feet and prodding him until he takes a step toward the base. “Hurry! You are going to be late!”

Wash trudges up the stairs with no small amount of trepidation. Surprises typically don’t end well around here. For him. (Except for lately. Lately surprises have been…good.)

He looks up, and they’re waiting for him.

Somehow they’ve managed to drag one of the larger desks up onto the roof. One of the curtains has been taken down and draped over it, like a tablecloth. There’s a flashlight set on the table, pointing upwards, like a candle. 

They’re looking at him expectantly. Tucker has a pink bow-tie stuck to the front of his armor. Wash suspects it’s been borrowed from Donut. Kaikaina’s done up her hair.

“What’s going on?” Wash asks.

“It’s a date!” Kaikaina says. “C’mon! We’re being fancy!”

Wash crosses the roof, sits down in the chair clearly left for him.

“A date?” he says. “Why—”

“We thought you wanted one. Enjoy it, asshole,” Tucker says. “Bread?” 

They literally put an ordinary loaf of white bread into a bread pan. 

Wash stares. Look between the two of them. The way Kaikaina’s hands are clasped nervously at the edge of the “table cloth,” the way they both seem to hold their breath. 

And smiles. Shakes his head.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says. “It’s okay.”

“We know it’s okay,” Tucker says, a touch too quickly. “We just wanted to.”

“Is it okay?” Kaikaina asks. 

“We’re okay,” Wash says. He reaches across the desk, takes one of her hands in his. His other lands on Tucker’s knee. “We’re great.”

She gives him a slightly hopeful smile. The frown between Tucker’s eyes eases.

“Pass the bread,” Wash says.

**Author's Note:**

> QueSeraAwersome.tumblr.com


End file.
